


Lost It All

by Pretence101



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, From 2x05, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-02 13:43:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pretence101/pseuds/Pretence101
Summary: She's starting to remember...something.Decidedly, and unquestionably, something.Memories that could be her own. Or maybe they're not.Maybe it is all just dreams.It's all, quite frankly, utterly fucked.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is set immediately after the events of 2x05, up until the last scene, so Wynonna isn't pregnant. (That contributed to this idea however).
> 
> It will have some trigger moments, but I will put a warning at the beginning of each chapter. Throughout the story there will be mentions of rape, as well as torture. 
> 
> Really hoping I'll be able to finish the whole story in good time. I'll try post a new chapter every weekend. Sorry this first chapter is short.

_The room is lit up by a few singular candles, flames glinting and shadows dancing against the walls. Still, an imposing, suffocating darkness is looming; creeping in from all corners._

_The circling figures, draped in a twinned black, stand in silent formation._

_Watching._

_Waiting._

_The nightgown, once a crisp, clean white, is torn and bloody. She is exhausted. Not from pain anymore, but a hollowness. Two firm hands hold her down, but they're more for show than actual restraint. She couldn't stand if she tried._

_The man in the golden mask kneels in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her tear stained cheeks. His voice barely above a whisper._

_“It will all be over soon.” ___

__

__“Shit.”_ _

__The aspirin clunks against the sink, then tumbles to the floor, despite Waverly's clumsy attempt to catch it. She glances over towards the gap in the bathroom door, studying for any movement on the bed. When none occurs, and she is satisfied she's in the clear, she scoops up the fallen bottle._ _

__Her head is pounding and she hopes the drugs will be a quick relief. She seriously needs some sleep._ _

__These damn dreams have plagued her on-and-off for the past few weeks, ever since Mikshun, rather violently, vacated her body. She's not sure where, or who, exactly they've come from, whether it's something the demon left behind of itself, another person it once inhabited, or just some sort of strange coping mechanism._ _

__There's also something...familiar, glaringly so, about it all. A detail just out of reach, something Waverly should be able to see, able to recognise, but can't. It's utterly frustrating._ _

__Though she does know one thing._ _

__It's extremely fucking tiring._ _

__“Waves?”_ _

__Waverly jumps, automatically clutching the aspirin to her chest. Nicole, all tousled hair and bleary eyes, is standing in the doorway, hugging herself against the slight chill. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”_ _

__“And I didn't want to wake you.” Waverly smiles apologetically, “My head's killing me. I just wanted to get some painkillers and come back to bed.”_ _

__“You okay?” Nicole's concerned expression, eyebrows knitted, the sweet frown, makes Waverly melt every time._ _

__“Yeah, I'm fine. Probably just a side effect of being controlled by a hellish tentacle demon for almost two months."_ _

__Nicole doesn't look entirely convinced, but she doesn't press any further. “It's possible, I guess. Do you want a glass of water?”_ _

__“I'm okay.” Waverly closes the few steps between them and gently kisses her girlfriend before resting against her forehead. “Go back to bed. I'll be there in a second.”_ _

__Nicole nods, yawns - which Waverly finds incredibly adorable – and returns to the bedroom. Waverly swallows a worrying quantity of pills and washes them down with water she catches from the tap stream. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and exits the bathroom._ _

__The second Waverly climbs into bed, Nicole slings an arm across her waist. Waverly settles back against her, relishing in the comfort, the quiet, ready for the ache in her temple to subside. Nicole plants a small kiss against her hair and Waverly lets a soft sigh escape; a safe, warm heat spreading through her veins._ _

__Nicole isn't stupid and Waverly would be to assume as much. Nicole is aware something's still distracting Waverly, but she has the common sense to leave it alone, which Waverly is thankful for. The dreams make little sense to her, let alone anyone else she decided to involve. Waverly's hoping, quite earnestly, that they'll just disappear the longer she goes without being possessed - she's convinced they've started to become more sporadic than they have been - then she won't have to worry about explaining them to anyone. And she can just carry on with normal life._ _

__Well, life._ _


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to get this chapter out more quickly than I had anticipated, which I am quite happy with myself about. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll aim to post the next one by mid-next week. But may be towards the end of next week, depending on work.

“Please tell me it's Bigfoot. Oh! That witch from Hansel and Gretel? She's real, isn't she? Someone needs to put that bitch in the ground.”

Wynonna is leaning forward on her chair, impatiently tapping her nails against the table, waiting for Jeremy to, as she put it, 'sort his shit out.' Jeremy is sifting through a stack of files on the desk, hurriedly trying to find the relevant case. 

Waverly stifles a yawn and takes another swig from her third cup of coffee that morning. Thankfully, between leaving Nicole's, returning to the homestead, and arriving at work, she's managed to avoid anyone catching onto her exhaustion. Between dead-end research regarding any detail she can salvage from the dreams and the supernatural creatures still roaming the triangle, her little energy is stretched thin, and while it would be _extremely_ helpful if those cult firefighters just took care of the half of it they could, that isn't the case. Tiredness just isn't an option.

Jeremy finally locates the correct file and holds it out. “I can't offer you that, unfortunately, but I do have something snacking on feral animals, and it doesn't seem to be human.”

“I'll take it.” 

Wynonna snatches the file from him and slouches against the backrest. Waverly pushes her chair so it rolls closer and peeks over Wynonna's shoulder. Wynonna thumbs through the pages, pausing on a picture of a strange yellow liquid seeping into cracked cement. She flips it onto the table.

“What's this?”

“I'm not sure. I'll need a sample of it though. Nicole made sure the scene wasn't touched.” He hands over another piece of paper and Waverly reads it out.

“Al's Convenience and Spirits. 72 North Street.”

Wynonna holsters Peacemaker and stretches as she stands. “Let's call Dolls and get going.” Waverly gulps down the rest of her coffee and tosses it into the trash. Wynonna walks through to the hallway, but Waverly stops to glance at the picture of the yellow goop.

“Uh...” She turns to see Jeremy looking at her, a nervous smile on his face.

“Yes?”

“Um, just maybe, you know, maybe this time, don't touch the goo.”

“I know.” Waverly snaps and Jeremy quickly turns towards the board, pretending to study an equation he's written out. As she turns to leave as well, she's overcome by an acute pain in her temple, her vision blurring, her thoughts filled with a haunting red hue. She grips the wall to keep from stumbling, blinking wildly and massaging between her eyes, willing the sharp sensation to subside. Jeremy has become engrossed in whatever mystery the board presents, and hasn't noticed her momentary lapse.

As the pain passes, just as quickly as it came on, she straightens up and continues hastily, with no time, and ultimately reluctant, to dwell on whatever the fuck just happened. 

****************************

The store is located in the east side of town, sandwiched between a grungy tattoo parlour and a take-away burger joint. Thrown towards the back of the alley lining the store, lies the remains of a feral cat. Something possessing exceptionally sharp fangs or claws made a quick meal out the animal, with only sliced bones and a bloody face left for recognition. The bottom jaw is broken clean, sitting apart from the rest, and the cats staring eyes are unnerving; bloodshot and slack. Wynonna and Waverly peer down at it, grimacing.

“That is disgusting. I just had my breakfast.”

“No, I had breakfast. You had five donuts.”

“Yes, but they were _questionable_ donuts I stole from Nedley's office. So they're probably looking for any excuse to come back up.”

“Can we focus please.” Dolls strides around corner, open notebook in hand, and joins them above the mutilated animal. “I talked to the neighbours. All pretty much keep to themselves, but they all agreed that the feral animal problem had gotten better recently.”

Dolls squats down and uses a gloved hand to study the carves in the bones.

Wynonna screws her nose up. “Oh, don't _touch_ it.” 

Dolls ignores her and turns the bone slowly around with his fingers. “Definitely claw marks. Long and extremely sharp.” 

“So something tore it to shreds and left a goopy calling card.” Waverly points to the oozing yellow glob located a metre or so away from the corpse. “Any idea what?”

Dolls shrugs. “Without a description to go on, it could be a number of things. We'll take the sample back to Jeremy and hope he can identify the creature from that.” 

Waverly turns and rummages in a duffel bag Jeremy supplied them that was dumped next to the wall. She plucks out the swab and steps forward. “So–”

“Not you!” Wynonna and Dolls simultaneously stop her in her tracks.

Waverly begrudgingly hands over the swab to Dolls. “Okay, okay. I got the message. Don't go near the goo.”

Dolls accepts the swab and Wynonna sidles up next to Waverly.

“Don't take it personally, it's just...”

Waverly sighs; resigned but unable to hide her irritation. “I know, I know. It's safer this way.”

Wynonna pulls her into a side hug, squeezing her shoulder. “You know I gotta keep you safe.” 

One moment, Waverly is standing outside the shop, a slight breeze in the air, the morning rush just starting to fade to the odd engine and conversation.

And suddenly she's not.

 

_Her hand stings._

_They've changed the bandage, can't risk an infection, but her pain is of no relevance._

_Then the voices start again._

_“That family had to take her in.” The words are usually muffled, inaudible, the walls must be thick, but when they stand by the door the voices get clearer._

_“She needs to return when it is over. We need a new plan.”_

_“Do you have one to suggest?”_

_“In fact, I do. It's actually quite simple.”_

_“You can't mean–”_

_“With him, all our worries will be obsolete.”_

_“He is a legend. A myth.”_

_“Just as Khaahzor is to so many.”_

_She hears a shuffling sound; they are walking away, plunging her to silence once more. She is able to only catch one last statement._

_“We shall succeed. And Restituo is our answer.”_

 

Waverly is forced back into when reality when Wynonna moves away, jerking her sideways. Wynonna catches her in time, steadying her upright. 

“You alright baby girl?”

“Yep. Just got a leg cramp.” It's an incredibly lame excuse, but before Wynonna can question anything they are interrupted by Dolls as he stands and pockets the sample. 

“Better get this back to Jeremy before whatever this is decides alley-cats aren't a satisfying enough meal.”

Waverly pretends to massage her calf, attempting to reassure Wynonna's narrowing eyes, and then heads towards the car, being careful to look as normal as possible. 

It was foolish of her to think the insanity was over.

Whatever was going on, it was all just getting started.


End file.
